


Reality

by Mad_Birdy



Series: Sastiel Love Week October 2016 [6]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Sastiel Love Week, Sexual Assault, toni bevell can go straight to hell
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-11
Updated: 2016-12-11
Packaged: 2018-09-07 18:59:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8812339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mad_Birdy/pseuds/Mad_Birdy
Summary: Day Six of Sastiel Love Week October 2016Prompt: hurt/comfortSo yeah. My earlier fic about 12.02 was insufficient after actually seeing the episode live. Still can't quite process that we were forced to watch Sam get raped. Anyways. This is supposed to fix that. Or try to.





	

Dean and Mary pull up in the Impala behind an old farm truck, next to which Castiel is standing and peering pensively at the farmhouse not far off. The two Winchesters (though not the usual two) get out and approach the angel. “He’s in there?” Dean asks.

“Yes,” Castiel answers. “But it’s warded. I can’t get in. There has to be some way to disable it from inside.”

Dean nods. “I’ll find it. As soon as it’s down, I want you inside. Who knows what kinda condition Sam’s gonna be in.”

“Yes. It’s likely very bad.” No one says anything as they contemplate the scene that awaits.

“I’m going with you,” Mary says into the silence. “You’ll need the backup.” Dean hesitates.

“She’s right,” Castiel says, nodding to Mary. “Since I can’t join you, take her to have your back. She is a hunter, Dean.”

Cornered as he is by his mother and his best friend, Dean just sighs and looks skyward, before getting Mary a gun from the back of the Impala.

~~~

“Was it good for you?” Lady Toni Bevell smirks at her captive, finishing the sentence she’d been writing right before he forced himself out of the spell.

Sam looks away in shame, feeling the slow-leaking wetness in the crotch of his pants. He doesn’t answer her.

She speaks some more, he pays half-attention. He tries to compartmentalize, ignore the trauma. It should bother him that the drawer for “sex-related trauma” is more like an entire room but then Toni’s dragging a blade up his throat and over his lips, and yes, that’s a memory that will be going in there as well.

He can’t help the scream that flees his lips when she stabs him.

~~~

Dean lets himself get caught, because yeah, the plan was to take Toni alive, if she hadn’t hurt Sam. But he’d meant every word he’d said to her over the phone, so as soon as he sees Sam chained to that chair, shame written in every line of his body and more physical red lines of pain than he’d had before…

Sam can’t believe his eyes, won’t believe them. Dean is dead. He has to be, that’s the only way the sun could have been saved. So this Dean, standing there chained next to him, he couldn’t be anything but another hallucination brought on by Toni. She had used the spell again, he’s so sure, even though she’d said it’d liquefy his brain. Which means she’s done with him. So he doesn’t react, doesn’t flinch when she starts hurting Dean. But he still can’t look away.

The gunshot that rings through the basement stills everyone, and Toni drops to the floor dead, bullet lodged in the back of her brain. Sam’s head whips up to the source, his jaw dropping open at the sight of his mother -- HIS MOTHER -- standing at the foot of the stairs, gun still smoking.

Mary takes the keys from the dead woman and gives them to Dean to unlock himself, but her eyes never leave Sam, just as his don’t leave her. She frees him quickly and in his haste to stand he falls instead, landing on his knees in front of her. Her hands immediately fly to his shoulders to support him. “Hey, hey, it’s okay.” Her voice is soft, like she’s talking to a child, and it’s just habit, she realizes, she’s still soothing him as if he was a baby again. It works for now, she decides. “We’ve got you, Sam.”

As her hands run up to brush the hair out of his eyes, calloused fingertips (she was a hunter too, Sam thinks, fingers used to guns and knives) tracing the cut on his face, he has to remind himself that she’s only a hallucination too. Another trick conjured up by Toni to make him cooperate. If he believes Toni is dead and his mother and brother are here to save him, then she can creep into his mind and steal secrets from him.

Footsteps, two sets, coming down into the basement. One set he knows like his own heartbeat: Castiel. The other is new, unfamiliar: some man called Mick who is apparently Toni’s boss. He gives Castiel his card, tuts over the loss of Toni but concedes that it was (almost) a fair trade. Offers a peace branch by asking to set up a meeting of hunters and British Men of Letters; Sam declines him vehemently, despite knowing it’s pointless. He knows that as long as he keeps saying no to the hallucination, Toni won’t get anything from him.

~~~

Castiel frowns as he watches Sam, sees the way his eyes are slightly unfocused and notices the way he’s pressing at his left hand. The angel recognizes the motion as Sam’s subconscious way of reminding himself what’s real and what’s not. With a whoosh he’s beside Mary, and she looks at him, startled. “He doesn’t believe that anything that’s going on is real,” Cas says softly to her.

“What?” she asks, frowning. Sam looks at the two of them in front of him, and presses harder.

“Trust me. Sam has a history of it. The woman probably used something on him too before we got here. I need to try to reach him with my grace.”

“Your what?”

“I’ll explain later.” Castiel cups Sam’s face with his hands. “Sam.” He reaches out with his grace, letting just the barest tendrils of warmth flow over Sam’s skin to   
soothe him. The hunter shudders at the familiar feeling of friendly grace, and his eyes slide closed in relief. He knows, because Cas told him long ago, that nothing, not even the strongest spellwork, can imitate the feeling of true grace. And just like that, he knows he’s not hallucinating. Toni is dead, Dean and Castiel are here to save him, and Mary…

“How?” His eyes fly open and he stares at his mother. “How are you here?”

“Amara brought her back,” Dean answers, turning away from Mick to kneel by Sam. His brother looks at him, all wide eyes, and he continues. “I got Amara and Chuck to make up, she healed him which healed the sun, and then they took the soul bomb out of me and brought Mom back.”

Sam’s lost for words and Cas finally takes full stock of his lover’s condition, frowning at certain aspects. “Sam,” he says carefully, softly. “What did she do to you?”  
“The usual,” is the answer, partnered with a carefully nonchalant shrug. “Cold shower, blowtorch, cattle prod, knives.” The angel knows his human better than that, though, and guesses more from the way Sam doesn’t meet anyone’s eyes while he talks.

Cas looks at Dean then. “We need to get him home. Away from here, at least.” Dean nods and slings Sam’s arm over his shoulder, and Cas takes his other one, and together they lift the youngest Winchester up, leading him out to the Impala. Mary follows, and that Mick guy stops her, offers her his card, says something about helping hunters.

Mary raises the gun that’s still in her hands. “Why don’t you let us run things here in America the way we want to run it and keep your snotty British noses on your island where they belong? And if we ever need your help, though it’s not likely, we’ll give you a call. Clear? Or do I need to shoot you too?” Mick nods, smirking but clear fear in his eyes, and she leaves, going to her boys.

~~~

Castiel sits in the back of the Impala with Sam, Dean and Mary in the front. They have a long drive back to the bunker, and so he heals Sam’s wounds as he runs his fingers through his hair, gently working out the tangles. He knows the hunter is still keeping something from him, but Sam’s dozing so he lets it be, for now.

He catches Dean and Mary’s eyes in the rearview mirror more than once, knowing they’re both worried about their brother and son. A soft cry from Sam makes him look down, but he hasn’t moved, the only indicator of stress being the wrinkles on his forehead. Castiel realizes Sam must have cried out to him as a prayer in his dream, so the angel closes his eyes and steps inside, careful not to intrude too far lest Sam resent it.

The dream is strange, hazy, more like a memory than something new. Sam and Toni are in a bed, naked and clearly in the midst of some sort of tryst. Before Cas can react, however, the hazy feeling leaves the dream as the scene fades to the basement where Sam had been tortured, and Toni mentions a spell. The angel leaves the dream and wakes the hunter in his lap gently. Sam jolts awake, eyes wide as he looks up at Cas.

“Sam,” he says softly. “What happened?”

“Castiel.” It’s a prayer, again, not spoken words, and Cas nods. “I can’t… I can’t say it. Not out loud.” There is shame and pain on Sam’s face, and the angel runs his thumb across his lover’s cheek soothingly. “You saw my dream, didn’t you?”

“You cried out for me.”

“She put a spell on me, Cas. Made me hallucinate, believe we were having sex and I was just… telling her everything.”

Cas boils on the inside, rage running through his veins. She raped him. She raped the purest soul I have ever known. She is as bad as Lucifer. He makes a mental note to talk to Billie to make sure the soul of Lady Antonia Bevell went to hell, not heaven, and another note to get Crowley to put her in the deepest pit.

“Sam, look at me.” The Winchester’s beautiful hazel eyes had been hidden when he’d pressed his face into Cas’ jacket, but now he looks up at his angel. “She’s dead. You’re safe now. You did no harm. She hurt you in ways no one should ever have to experience. I am so, so sorry.” Sam can’t even think of what to say to that, just pushes in closer to Cas. “May I… tell Dean and Mary?” He nods, and Castiel looks up at them. “She used sexual torture against Sam.”

Mary’s eyebrows shoot up and she spins in her seat to look at the angel and her son. “The bitch did what?”

“She used a spell to put Sam in a relaxed, trusting environment where they were having sex to get information from him.”

Mary processes. “She raped him.”

“Yes.”

Dean’s hands tighten on the steering wheel and his mouth is set in a firm line. “Well,” Mary says after a minute. “I was kinda feeling bad about shooting her. Not so much now.”

~~~

At the bunker, Castiel gets Sam to his room, Dean and Mary heading for the kitchen (arguing the whole way about whose tomato-rice soup is better). The angel is gentle with his human, asking permission first for almost every move he makes. He starts a hot shower, and on second thought plugs the drain and makes it a bath. He lets Sam undress himself as he puts one of their favorite bath bombs in, watching the swirl of colors and remembering the trip they’d made to get these. A fond smile crosses his lips at the memory of the tittering shop girls behind them as they’d sniffed and analyzed each one. They’d both winked at them as they checked out, and held hands as they left the store, gaining a cumulative sigh from the girls.

Sam just lays in the tub for a while, his eyes closed as he lets the warmth sink into his bones, the occasional soft sigh leaving his lips as Castiel’s fingers move through his hair and over his scalp (because Cas insists on washing his hair for him). When he’s done, Cas hands him the softest flannel he owns and clean boxer briefs, letting him dress himself before leading him to bed. (The angel knows that what Sam needs, now, is direction, but not to be babied. He has to build his own reality and safety back but he needs help to do it.)

Then Dean’s there, carrying a tray with a bowl of soup and a cup of tea, and Mary’s behind him, looking a little hesitant. Sam sits on the covers of his bed, lets Dean explain the dinner in bed before hugging him fiercely. Then it’s Mary’s turn, and Sam practically engulfs her, wraps his arms all the way around her and revels in the feeling. It’s the first time he’s ever hugged his mother, and he’s intent on remembering every second.

~~~

Sam falls asleep slowly that night, some part of his brain still afraid that he’ll wake up to find himself back in the basement, alone and in pain. So Cas holds him close, forehead to forehead, grace wrapped around them both. And he promises Sam that he will be there when he wakes up, always.

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah I killed Toni. I don't like her, and I will not put up with excuses for her behavior, because there is absolutely nothing that excuses sexual assault and rape.


End file.
